The Eternal Darkness of Sirius Black's Mind
by eternalangelkiss
Summary: Sirius, locked up for crimes he has not commited, finds that despair seems to be the only way out for him. Azkaban would have destroyed Sirius if it hadn’t been for James. See what comes of a person who survives Azkaban and finds peace along the way.
1. Prologue at the end of the day

PROLOGUE: AT THE END OF THE DAY

PROLOGUE: AT THE END OF THE DAY

Twilight fell with a hush, and the last remaining strands of lavender light slowly inked to darkness. Sirius Black leaned closer to his barred window, tracing the receding light with his pale, dirty fingers. When he had first arrived at Azkaban, the banishment of the day, and the incoming night had been the hardest for him to bear.

Dressed in a drab gray and white robe, Sirius huddled closer to the wall. The night breeze began to waft through the window. Soon it would get cold. His bare feet were already numb from the breeze. He would have thought that he would have gotten used to this by now. It must be nearing winter; the sharp prick of the wind seemed to be edged with dark months ahead. The salt from the sea coated the back of his throat, creating a familiar itch. He would have to drink something soon.

Black waited until the last vestiges of the day had gone; he had to be sure that one more day had completely passed before he pick up a small, sharpened rock, and added another hash mark to his wall. There were 3,650 hash marks. Sirius couldn't believe that 10 years of his life had slipped by.

In the first few years in Azkaban Black had spoken out, to anyone who would listen, telling them of his innocence, and who the real traitor to James and Lily had been. He had thought it to be utterly ridiculous that anybody could believe that he, Sirius Black, had colluded with Lord Voldemort in betraying his closest friend. He had thought that once people began to see his side of the matter, that he would be let out, and the real traitor would be caught and punished. But very few people wanted to listen to him or even cared to listen. For them, the case was already closed, the culprit caught, and nothing more was to be said. They washed their hands of the matter and Sirius disappeared behind the walls of the dark prison.

At first Black had so much anger in his veins, a pounding hatred that boiled up inside of him. He could never understand how that ratty little man named Pettigrew had gotten the better of him. He could never understand how all those who had once loved and worshipped him had turned against him, but that had been the old Sirius. The old Sirius could never of understood that sometimes life didn't care if you were innocent or not; sometimes the knocks came, and you had to roll with them in order to survive.

Sirius listened to the familiar creaks and moans of the prison as its inmates and guards settled in for another night trapped in the dank, dark place. The Dementors absolutely loved Azkaban; it probably was like a summer home to them, but for witches and wizards, the place was a void. People went into the void, but rarely did they ever come back out. If they did come back out, they would never be the same. Sirius waited for his usual Dementor guards, knowing that in a few minutes they would arrive with his food and water. That was the routine. The day fell, and twenty minutes after sunset, the guards would come with his dinner. Routine was all that seemed to be left for Sirius.

For years Sirius waited for someone, anyone to come to his defense, or to just see him. He had expected at least to be visited by some of his friends, like Remus, but no one ever came, and the years fell away like gray shrouds. Insanity had seemed like an easy way out for Black in those early years. Despised by his friends, feared and hated by the magical community, Black could have easily have been destroyed by Azkaban. He would have become just another number, another forgotten name and another person buried in an unmarked grave.

All of this could have happened if it hadn't been for James.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 1 A MEMORY OF THE PAST

Night had fallen and the torches had turned the prison from a benign enemy to a frightening beast. Demonic shadows flickered and capered on the slick black walls of Azkaban. Cool drafts of the night air swept through the cell blocks, the briny taste of the sea hiding in the folds of the breeze. The inmates of Azkaban moved around restlessly in their cells. Some stood plaintively at their cell doors, their hollowed out eyes and pale faces peering down on the bottom level. That was where everyone came in, but would never leave from, except maybe in a body bag.

Azkaban was a triangular shaped tower built of solid black stone, and centered on a desolate island that was off the coast of England in the North Sea. The sea around Azkaban was gray and brutal, especially during storm season. The sky was always dark. Mists constantly surrounded the impregnable tower; Sirius supposed it had something to do with the Dementors. The wind off the sea would send gusts of cold air and moisture into the prison. With scanty clothes, and one threadbare blanket, the cold tended to get to people. Many a winter had passed where the population of Azkaban had been dwindled down. Only the torches along the walls gave any source of heat or light in the prison, casting flickering shadows over the inmates. The prison was ruthless and unforgiving. Without the added horror of Dementors, the prison itself would have sucked out the soul of its inmates.

Sirius sat near his cell door, leaning against his slime covered wall. On either side of his door were his two personal Dementor guards. Occasionally one of the guards turned and looked in on Sirius. Black had come to calling that particular guard Smiley.

Smiley seemed to be intrigued by Sirius for reasons that Black would never want to know. Smiley liked to come into Sirius' cell, and inspect its barren interior. Black had no idea what it was Smiley was looking for on those visits, and Sirius didn't care. So long as Smiley left him alone, Black allowed the Dementor near him. It wasn't like he had a choice anyway.

Sirius' second guard, on the other hand, kept him on edge. This one was more skittish, and quick to attack. There were plenty of times when Black had moved too quickly, and caused his second Dementor guard to pounce on him. He had come to calling this guard Skitty Kitty (or Skitty for short).

Smiley and Skitty floated near Sirius' cell door as they normally did, but Skitty Kitty was more restless than normal. Skitty floated erratically in front of Sirius' cell; this was making Black nervous.

And he wasn't the only one. Sirius could tell that the other inmates were more nervous than normal; their eyes would constantly flicker to the Dementors outside their cells that circled around the tower on patrol. Black had noticed that the few Dementors in the prison were acting like Skitty; they were becoming more restless and excited as the night wore on.

Black looked down from his high level cell to the bottom floor. Tonight was new inmates night. Every six months, a group of new prisoners came to Azkaban, accompanied by a group of Dementors. Sirius had heard rumors that tonight an abnormal amount of new prisoners were coming in. The Ministry must be working overtime, though Black could hardly understand why. The latest groups of new prisoners had been small, made up mostly of minor offenders. Something must be happening on the outside to have such a large group coming in now. Black knew that Harry was starting Hogwarts this year, and Sirius was afraid that that may be the reason behind this upsurge of offenders.

Sirius had seen the arrival of new prisoners before, and he had never been particularly interested in watching, but this time was different, was off. Sirius felt the difference in his bones. The arrival of the new prisoners always got the Dementors excited, and Sirius could feel the Dementors anticipation; the air in the prison was dropping in temperature as the minutes slipped by. Sirius had already grabbed his blanket, and wrapped it around himself.

The Dementors usually had shifts; the Ministry didn't like having too many of them in the prison at one time. Sirius had a feeling that this rule was going to be broken tonight, especially if a large amount of Dementors came with the rumored large group of new inmates. A dark premonition warned Black that the night was going to be dangerous.

After what seemed like an intolerable wait, the main entrance to the prison opened, and a large group of new inmates was herded in by a larger than normal group of Dementors; there was at least one Dementor for every three new prisoners. Following the Dementors and the new inmates, were about five or six Ministry wizards.

Sirius leaned closer to his bars, trying to look down on the new inmates. Fresh meat is what Sirius liked to call them, but sometimes he would refer to them as fresh souls. Sirius watched as the new batch came in, dressed in the usual gray and white robes and waiting to be sorted. The rumors had been right; this was an abnormal amount of new inmates.

Some of the prisoners stood proud, as if this place would not get them; they were usually the first to break. Others came in as meek as mice, barely looking anyone in the face; they would be the first to die. Azkaban didn't care who a person was before they arrived there; all that truly mattered in a place like Azkaban was how strong a mind and spirit a person had inside them. Physical size of one's body meant next to nothing in here.

Sirius watched as the new prisoners walked forward into the belly of the beast. Fear oscillated between the new arrivals, which in turn agitated the Dementors. Sirius felt his anxiety tighten his lean muscles. He didn't like the amount of Dementors that had come with the new prisoners, adding to the amount of Dementors that were already in the prison. This situation was an explosion waiting to happen.

The lead Ministry wizard pulled out a scroll, and unrolled the long paper. He began to read off the names of the new inmates, and where they would be put while they were in Azkaban. Sirius watched as the Dementors began to fly faster and faster around the prison, as the sorting of the new inmates began.

Most people who came to Azkaban were sorted into the bottom level. This was the level where inmates were given the most freedom; people in the bottom level had committed the least offensive crimes, and were only in Azkaban for a short while. These were the minor rule breakers and small time thieves. They were allowed to walk around, and visit one another. The Dementors patrolled, and fed off of them, but there were so many inmates on this level, and so few Dementors at a time that the Dementors' effect were lessened.

So far, the majority of the new inmates were being sorted into this level.

The second largest group to be sorted out of the new inmates were led to the second level. These people were allowed to walk around, but only at certain times. They usually had short to medium length sentences, and their crimes were only slightly worse than the bottom level people. Usually the craftier thieves, and the people who experimented with magic were put on the second tier.

The third level had a drastically smaller number of inmates than the second or first level. This is where the murderers, Muggle baiters, and other low life criminals lived. They usually had terms that ranged from 7-20 years. They were only allowed out once a month, and had a personal Dementor guard assigned to them. Very few out of this batch of new inmates were being led up the stairs by their personal Dementor guard to the third level.

But the fourth and highest level was the worst. Sirius, being a high priority prisoner, was on the highest level with the depraved of the depraved; his cousin Bellatrix shared his same level, though that gave him no comfort at all. Very few people came to this level out of each batch of new inmates. This is were the truly evil and cruel people were kept; mass murderers, traitors, torturers and anybody who had killed in the name of Lord Voldemort were in this cell block. People on this level were never let out. Sirius' level was also the level the Dementors liked to frequent the most; every high priority prisoner was assigned two Dementor guards. So far not one soul out of this batch of new prisoners had been assigned to the fourth level.

The Dementors were flitting around quicker as the sorting continued, and the new inmates were being moved to their assigned levels. Skitty was becoming more restless, sometimes wandering away from its post to get a better look at the new inmates. Smiley on the other hand, tended to constantly turn around, and look in on Sirius. Sometimes Sirius could never understand Smiley, or its motives.

What Black did understand was that the Dementors were hungry, and Sirius knew that the few Ministry wizards here would not be able to stop the Dementors if things got out of control. Black felt his heart pound faster. It was the new prisoners' fear that was making the Dementors excited, and since there were so many new inmates, all this situation needed was a catalyst to set off a chain reaction.

As the line of new prisoners began to dwindle down, Black found he was able to breathe easier. The sorting was almost done, and the guest Dementors would leave with the Ministry wizards.

That was what would have happened if only the next prisoner that was called hadn't been called.

The next prisoner was a tall, massive man, whose oily, blond hair covered his malevolent eyes. He was gaunt, and had battle scars running up and down his arms. Black could tell that this inmate would not be assigned to level one or two. This one may be a level 3 or a rare level four inmate. Sirius suddenly noticed the faint Death Eater tattoo marked on the new prisoner's inner forearm.

Sirius saw movement in Bellatrix's cell, which was not too far from his own, as she pulled closer to her cell door. Black tensed up, and held his breath as he waited to hear which level this new inmate would be put. The Ministry wizard, who read off the names, seemed to be frightened of the Death Eater, who stared at him defiantly. With trembling lips, the Ministry wizard announced that this prisoner was to put on level four.

The inmate grinned an evil smile as he looked up in the direction of Bellatrix's cell. What he said next started the firestorm.

"The Dark Lord grows stronger everyday," the Death Eater bellowed. "He will rise again!"

Hiss of anger erupted out of the people on the bottom two levels. The people on those levels were not Death Eaters, just petty criminals, and most were not fans of the Dark Lord. The people on the third and fourth level, though, drowned out the people on the bottom, though they had fewer numbers. The majority of the people on the third and fourth level were Death Eaters. Sirius could hear Bellatrix, a few cells down from him, screaming out her demented thoughts.

Sirius began to edge away from his door. The Dementors were swirling about faster and faster. Soon they would be attacking. The new inmate looked back on the Ministry wizard triumphantly, and then screamed out, "The boy who lived is at Hogwarts; Harry Potter's days are numbered! The Dark Lord will not fail to kill him this time!"

An avalanche of discord ricocheted throughout the prison. Sirius found that he had stopped his retreat, instead rushing to his cell door, screaming down at the Death Eater in wild anger, and he was not the only one. The use of Harry's name sparked chaos in Azkaban. The dissenters became wild with anger, and the Death Eaters jeered triumphantly.

But the Dementors were whipped up into a frenzy by the heightened emotions. They zoomed back and forth through the prison. The Ministry wizards knew that control was soon going to be out of their grasp. The lead wizard gave a nod to the Dementors nearest the new inmate who had caused the uproar; immediately the group of Dementors swooped in on the new inmate.

Sirius saw no more as he quickly moved away from his door, to the farthest corner of his cell. He knew what was coming. What the Ministry wizards hadn't predicted was what the other Dementors would do. Instead of staying at their assigned posts the other Dementors began to swoop in on all the prisoners; the feeding frenzy had begun.

Sirius heard the Ministry wizards yell out orders of retreat, and heard the slam of the front door. The prisoners had been left alone with the ravenous Dementors. Sirius watched in horror as his two guards, and a few more Dementors floated into his cell. He screamed out in horror, and realized he wasn't the only one who did so.

**A/N:** I tried to stay as close to the information about Azkaban as I could. Please tell me if anything seems off with this chapter. I would also like to give thanks to the people on the forums who helped me name Sirius Black's Dementor guards. I, unfortunately, didn't write down those wonderful people's names and can't seem to find the question thread on the forums, but thanks for the help all the same!


	3. Chapter 3

A young Sirius squirmed uncomfortably in the high back rigid chair

A young Sirius squirmed uncomfortably in the high back rigid chair. Absentmindedly he shuffled his food around on his plate. His fork dragged along the bottom of the ancient Black family china. The screech had at least broken up the monotonous silence. Regulus, who sat across from Sirius, froze, his fork half way to his mouth. He quickly glanced over to his mother, Walburga Black, waiting for her reaction.

Sirius' mother's sharp gray eyes flicked up at Sirius in disdain. The sixteen year old Sirius slouched deeper into his chair. He hated the family dinners his mother insisted they have. It wasn't like they were a real family anyways. His mother had no problem telling him of how much of a disappointment he had been; Sirius believed that he had been a disappointment to his mother since he was born, and she had reminded him of this everyday of his life.

In fact, Sirius hated everything about the Black house: the drab carpets that needed to be thrown out, the austere and ugly paintings that dotted the faded walls, the Black crest on every little thing possible. It was a reminder to him of his family's pure-blood obsession, an obsession that Sirius could never accept. He hated his mother's prim eating etiquette, and disdainful eyes. He hated her starched, black dresses that fell to the floor, and her tightly spun bun. She was the image of pure-blood perfection, reveling in archaic etiquette, and worn out philosophies.

Regulus was not much better, well maybe in the fashion sense he was. His younger brother took pride in his ancestry, aspiring to one day grace one of the walls of Black family home with his portrait. He was proud of his Slytherin connections, and ingested the pure-blood philosophy like it was water. Walburga Black was extremely proud of Regulus, especially since she had been so disappointed with her eldest son; Regulus was in Slytherin, Regulus was the Slytherin Seeker, Regulus had made important connections with well known pure-blood families, Regulus didn't hang out with blood traitors like James Potter. In all, Regulus was the family's angel, and Sirius was just another mouth to feed. Sirius seriously doubted if his mother and father would miss him if he ever left.

Sirius sighed, and slid down further in his chair. He looked over to his brother, who would occasionally look up, and catch Sirius' eye. Black didn't really hate his brother; he just thought that Regulus was an idiot for buying into that pure-blood bull his mother tried to shove down their throats every day. Sirius had not noticed that his mother was eyeing him with increasing scorn.

"Sirius Black, I have not taught you to sit, or eat like that! You must be learning bad habits from that Potter boy. It's bad enough that you have that awful blood traitor, who chases after Muggle-borns, as a friend. I will not have you disgrace the name of Black by repeating his crude habits. Now sit up!" Walburga Black spit out.

Regulus snickered, which was, of course, ignored by Walburga. _Maybe_, Sirius thought, _Regulus could be a twit_. The comment made by Sirius' mother was actually nice for the woman, but Black hated her even more for it. He couldn't wait to leave. In a few weeks, he would be at James house, and he would never return to this hateful place.

Sirius glared at his brother, and abruptly sat up straight. He tossed his fork aside, instead determined not to allow another bite of his mother's food to enter his body. He wished he were with James, Remus, and even the annoying little Pettigrew. Walburga hadn't noticed right away that her son had stopped eating, intent on sipping her tea in just the right way.

Sirius stared at the bland walls, more importantly on the picture right across from him. It was of a long dead relative. The subject of the painting had the Black family gray eyes and dark features, but the man looked devoid of life. Sirius closed his eyes and shuddered. He never wanted to have his picture up on any wall in number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Black opened his eyes, and turned back to the picture, unsure why he was such a masochist. He hated the picture, as he hated most everything in this house, but something about the picture had been different. As Sirius continued to stare at it, he saw it change. The colors of the room around him seem to drain away.

The colors in the picture, on the other hand, became brighter. Sirius watched as the picture of his ancestor faded away, and was replaced by an idyllic scene by a lake. The grass was emerald green, and the sky was baby blue, dotted with white fluffs of clouds. The lake was vibrant, with glints of golden sunlight on its surface. In the center of the picture was a familiar willow tree near the lake's edge. Sirius could have sworn he had seen this place before.

Sirius suddenly remembered where this place was. It was the Hogwart's lake, and that tree had been the Marauder's favorite spot to sit by the lake. As Sirius began to remember this, he was shocked to see a miniature version of Remus being dragged unwillingly to the tree by miniature James and Sirius. Pettigrew trailed behind them, hopping about in his usual excitement.

A shudder of joy and sorrow swept through Black. He remembered this. This was the time when the Marauder's had decided to skip class, and go out and enjoy the fine weather. It was a few days before the full moon, and Remus had been on edge, worried not only about his impeding change, but about the end of the year tests. James had thought that Remus was going to snap, and had devised with Sirius a way of getting Remus out of the castle for a bit of fresh air. Pettigrew, as always, hadn't helped much in the planning, but he had been useful in catching Remus between classes, and convincing Lupin to go outside.

The four boys plopped down under the willow tree, Remus, more resistant than the others. Lupin still had his Potion's book in his hand, and resolutely tried to open it, and read. Sirius and James were not going to have any of that. Instead they conjured up fierce looking bubble animals, which starting fighting each other, preferably right over Remus' book. Pettigrew tried to create a bubble animal on his own, but failed miserably. Instead, he clapped his hands excitedly, as he watched the bestial matches. So far, Sirius was winning. James became craftier in how his bubble animals would perform, and was soon beating Sirius.

Sirius shuddered. A deathly chill filled his body, freezing his very soul. He was confused because the chill had nothing to do with how he felt about that memory. For him, his days as a Marauder had been the happiest times of his life. This freezing feeling seemed to come on him from some other source, something he knew he should remember, but couldn't. The memory of the Marauder's began to fade, its colors bleeding away; the sky turned gray-blue, the grass a drab yellow-green, and the lake turned a murky brown. Sirius watched as his friends began losing their vibrancy. James didn't laugh as loudly, Remus didn't smile as widely, Peter didn't move as quickly. Soon all the colors had faded to gray.

Black watched in horror as his friends faces began to disappear, turning into confusing shadows. Sirius could feel the memory slipping away from him. He began to see the dimensions and colors of his mother's dining room beginning to return. He began to hear his mother's high pitched voice. Sirius jumped up, and ran over to the picture. He tried to pry it from the wall. He wasn't going to lose that memory, not going to lose the faces of his friends, and have them replaced by a memory of a place he hated.

Sirius clawed desperately at the wall, his fingers turning bloody as he tried to pull the picture off. He screamed out in frustration, and scrabbled even more desperately with the picture. The picture would not budge. His friends were almost gone. Only James seemed to be the only one who was not completely fading.

Knowing that the picture would not come off the wall, Sirius did the only thing he knew he could do. He concentrated on James, just James, and ignored everything else. He focused on what James looked like. Slowly the image of James began to return. Black imagined James in his Quidditch robes.

Sirius closed his eyes, and focused with every part of his being on remembering James. He remembered how James use to like to wear his robes slightly wrinkled, and his hair tossled; Prongs had had an affinity for the wild boy look. He remembered the way James use to smile, wide and showing all of his teeth. He remembered James' eyes, brown, and oftentimes mischievous. But most importantly he remembered James' laughter and his voice. A distant peal of laughter echoed throughout Sirius' memory. The laughter calmed Black, easing his racing fear.

Sirius Black opened his eyes.

He was no longer in his mother's dining room. He was no longer scrabbling to pull a picture from a wall. Sirius's breathing was irregular and weak, and his sight was not much better. All he could see around him was darkness, and all he could feel was a deathly cold. Sirius opened his eyes a little wider. He was staring up into a black stoned ceiling that was covered in green mold. Black's breathing began to come out of his mouth more evenly, as his heartbeat became stronger. A horrible barrage of rattling breathes circled around Sirius.

Sirius suddenly remembered where he was.

The cold, hard floor of his cell had bruised his back where he had fallen. He had tried to escape the Dementors when they had swarmed in on him after the feeding frenzy had begun. Sirius had made it to his back wall that was closest to his window before he fell.

Black turned to his side and faced the window. The night was lightening, and streaks of dawn were slowly appearing. The Dementors were still in his cell, circling around and above him, but they seemed to be waiting. Waiting for what, Black wouldn't have been able to tell. Sirius had a feeling they were waiting for him to think of something happy so that they could pounce. He was surprised that they hadn't tried to suck his soul out yet.

Black turned from the window, to face the wall near the window, his heart beat slowly gaining speed. He had expected to see a Dementor, and was surprised by what it was he did see.

Instead of a Dementor, there was James, leaning coolly against the wall, exactly as Sirius had remembered. Sirius felt his heart beat a little faster. James looked so real, so alive. His hair was disheveled and rippled in the cool, morning breeze. His eyes shined brightly, and his skin was glowing. Sirius tried to hold in his happy feelings of seeing his friend again.

"Hello Padfoot. It's so good to see you again!" James said brightly.

"Prongs. I've missed you so much my friend," Sirius stuttered, his words awashed in his joy and sorrow. James smiled and so did Sirius.

The Dementors were perplexed, especially Smiley. Smiley and his gang of Dementors hovered near Sirius, wanting to swoop in, but sensing a variegated amount of feelings coming off of Sirius; they stood back, unsure exactly what was going on. The Dementors could sense something was different.

Smiley swooped in closer. Sirius pushed away from his guard, but Smiley didn't seem to want to attack. Smiley was once again intrigued by Sirius. In fact, the Dementor warded off the others. Smiley must be some sort of leader, a leader that was fascinated with Sirius. Black would say it again. He was never going to understand Smiley, or the creature's motives.

Sirius looked at James, who was watching Smiley. James seemed to be just as puzzled by the Dementor's reaction as Sirius was. Prongs turned back to Sirius, his eyes thoughtful and calm. His face was serene, and it comforted Sirius. All of Sirius' fears seemed to be slipping away.

"Don't worry Padfoot. The Ministry will be here shortly. They will bring reinforcements," stated James.

"How can you know that Prongs?" asked Sirius.

Smiley's head swiveled around, trying to figure out who it was Sirius was talking to. Sirius noticed none of this, his focus remaining on James.

Prongs smiled. Sirius would have remembered that smile anywhere. It was the smile James had when he married Lily. It was the smile James had when Harry was born.

"If you want proof Padfoot, look at your other Dementor guard, the one you call Skitty Kitty," James responded.

Sirius turned from James, looking for Skitty Kitty. Even though, there were about six Dementors in his cell with him, Skitty he picked out easily. Skitty was nervously floating back and forth in front of his cell door; the Dementor's movements were more erractic than normal. Skitty could sense something was coming.

"Skitty is acting oddly, but that doesn't mean they will come. Why would the Ministry care what happens to us in Azkaban?" Sirius said.

"They don't. The Ministry doesn't like having the Dementors out of their control. They wouldn't allow the Dementors out of their control for more than a day. They will be back in numbers, but until then, I'll stay with you until they come." James pushed off the wall he was leaning on, walked over to Sirius and sat down next to him. Padfoot felt safe with his friend at his side. Sirius curled up next to James, letting his weariness suck him under.

James had been right. About twenty minutes later, the Ministry came with a full force of Aurors, armed with Patronuses. They rounded up the guest Dementors, and escorted them out of the prison, but for some, the Ministry had come too late. Several prisoners were also led out of Azkaban, prisoner's that had lost their souls, and were only walking shells. Sirius wasn't sure what the Ministry was going to do with those unfortunate souls. One of the soulless prisoner's was Sirius' cell neighbor. Black had hoped that it was going to be Bellatrix that they had been coming for, but Sirius wasn't that lucky.

James had kept his promise. He had stayed with Sirius until the Ministry came, and after they had gone, and things had gone back to normal, James remained at Sirius' side. Though Black wasn't fully recovered for what had happened the night before, he did find that sleep was easier to come by with his fellow Marauder at his side.

**A/N**: The next chapter will be about Bellatrix. This may sound like the end of the story, but it isn't. Hopefully I will have the next chapter up soon. Until then, leave me a review with any feedback you have, and thank you for reading my story.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 3 A WINTER MEMORY

**A/N:** This chapter was originally going to have more of Bellatrix in it, but it morphed into something a little different. I'm sorry to those readers who were expecting a Bellatrix centric chapter. The flow of the story did not go in that direction. Still, I hope you like this chapter.

The winter chill had settled harshly on the prison. Wet wind brought in swirls of rain and slush. The bitter cold cut up the back of Sirius Black's throat with its serrated edges, and the icy floor numbed his back.

Winter had always been the hardest for him. With winter came the frost. Icicles formed along the edge of his window, and the floor became slick with frozen water. The Ministry gave the prisoners an extra blanket, and warmer clothes to wear, but it was not nearly enough. Ever winter Sirius would wonder if he was going to survive, or if he would die as so many prisoners did. And every winter he survived was a triumph for him.

For the first few years, Sirius had transformed into his Animagus; the added fur helped keep him warm, but as the years slowly passed, and the Dementors leeched away his happier memories, he began to lose his ability to change.

This past winter, Sirius could not, no matter how hard he tried, change into Padfoot. He felt as if the pit of his stomach had fallen out, and any hope he had had drained out of him. He felt apart of him was slowly disappearing, a part of him that was so crucial to who he was. Who was he without being Padfoot? Being Padfoot had tied him to the Marauders, bonded him to James, Remus and even Peter; he was closer to them than he had ever been to his family. And now, Azkaban was taking Padfoot from him as well.

That winter, Sirius had nearly gone insane. He was still not sure how he survived. He had had nothing to cling to, no hope or joy whatsoever.

That was when James had started coming to him in his dreams. It was only snippets of memories, snatches of a past that would never be again. He remembered the day he was James' best man, how proud he had been. Sirius remembered the love James had had in his eyes as he watched Lily walk down the aisle towards him, dressed in white, with little white flowers embedded into her rose red hair.

Those memories became a lifeline to Sirius, something he could hold onto. He had no idea where they had come from; Black had thought the Dementors had gotten all his best memories, but he was glad that some had escaped them. Sirius had survived that winter with only those memories in his grasp.

Now winter was on him again, and he had high hopes that his old friend was going to come back. Sitting once more on a rain slick floor, and huddled under his two ragged blankets, Sirius began to doze off. He closed his eyes, and journeyed down into his memories, going back to the happier moments in his life.

He remembered the first time he had held Harry in his arms. Lily was recovering in St. Mungos after a long labor. Sirius and Remus had been with James as he had waited nervously in the waiting room. Sirius remembered telling James that he was going to wear a hole into the waiting room floor, if he didn't stop pacing. Finally, the healer came out, and said they could see Lily and her new baby boy. Sirius and Remus followed James into the delivery room, where Lily lay pale, but smiling in a hospital bed. Her smile widened when she saw James.

In her arms was little Harry, barely an hour old, his eyes not even open to the world yet. James' eyes shone brightly with pride as he came closer. Sirius moved forward as well to get a look at Harry. Only Remus stayed behind, his smile large with joy, but his eyes wary. It was close to the end of the month, and Remus didn't want to get too close to a new life, being what he was. Sirius tried to get Lupin to come closer, but Remus insisted on staying away.

James had taken Harry in his arms, and never had Sirius seen Prongs so happy. It was like Harry was the sun and the moon to James. Sirius peered down on the newborn over James' shoulder. He was taken aback on how tiny Harry was, how delicate his little fingers and toes were, how small his little mouth was. Sirius couldn't help, but be overwhelmed with joy; this was the first time he had ever truly envied James.

Suddenly James turned around, and handed Harry to Sirius. Sirius was slightly surprised by this, but gently took Harry in his arms. He was so happy that James had decided to share his happiest moment with Sirius. Black's heart unfolded with love for this new life; he hoped one day he would have a son just like Harry.

"Sirius, Lily and I have a favor to ask of you," James said.

Sirius had looked up from his admiration of Harry to James. He saw that Remus had come a little closer, staring at Harry in awe.

"What is it James? You know I'll do anything for you!" Sirius said.

James looked at Lily, who nodded, then turned back to Sirius.

"We want you to be Harry's godfather," James responded.

Sirius could still hear the word 'Godfather' echo around him like a sweet melody.

Even as the memory of Harry's birth slowly slipped from his mind, and disappeared into the dark regions of his interiority, that one word still sparkled in the air around him. Soon though, even that echo of the past disappeared, and just like that, the memory was gone, but never forgotten. The Dementors would never have that memory. It was going to stay in the deepest jungles of his mind, where hardly any light ever penetrated, if it meant that the Dementors could not get at it.

Sirius felt a tidal wave of sorrow and joy as swells and swells of emotions crashed in on him. He wanted to smile and he wanted to cry. He had told himself long ago that he was not going to let Azkaban see him cry. Sirius swallowed the heavy emotions that engulfed him. That memory had been strong; James and Lily and Remus had seemed so real, as if Harry's birth had happened just the day before. Sirius had not expected that his memories of his past could still have so much power and life to them.

If he kept his eyes closed, would he be able to stay in the place of his memories? Would Azkaban be able to disappear? Sirius hoped that he could stay in the sunshine of his past, run under the moonlight with the Marauders, or hold Harry in his arms forever.

"You can't stay in your memories forever Sirius. Reality will always catch up with you," said a soft, and familiar voice near him. Sirius' breath caught in his throat. So James had decided to stay with him this winter as well.

Sirius opened his eyes to his drab, bleak cell. Sitting near him, his back against the same wall Sirius sat up against, and his knees drawn up, was James. This time James wore a faded t-shirt, and torn up jeans. His face was pale, but his eyes were bright, like fiery stars. Sirius wondered at how James could stand the cold wearing just jeans and a t-shirt.

"I was remembering the day Harry was born," Black replied.

James smiled widely, his colorless lips pulling away from brilliant white teeth.

"Yes. That was a beautiful day, the day my Lily gave me the greatest treasure in the universe; she gave me Harry. Do you remember what we asked you that day?"

"You asked me if I wanted to be Godfather to Harry. I said yes. That was the happiest moment in my life, James. Did you know that?"

James looked over at Sirius, his eyes large and gentle.

"I know Padfoot. I know,"

Sirius lowered his head in shame.

"I'm not Padfoot anymore," Sirius said.

Black pulled his blanket closer to his face. He didn't want James to see him in his shame, in his weakness.

"You're always Padfoot," James responded.

James stared at Sirius, his eyes stern, and stubborn. Whenever Prongs had that look on his face, Sirius had a hard time lying to him. Sirius continued to hide under his blanket.

"Why did you say you weren't Padfoot anymore?" James asked his tone harsher than normal.

"I can't change into Padfoot anymore James. I can't. I've tried. I think I've lost the ability. I'm no longer a Marauder."

James' stern face, relaxed and a smile spread easily over his face.

"Sirius, you didn't lose the ability. And even if you had, you would still be a Marauder, still be Padfoot to me!" James responded.

Sirius pulled his head out from behind his blanket. He couldn't help, but have hope, and hope could be a very dangerous thing to have in Azkaban.

"How do you know it's not gone completely?"

James lifted a pale finger, and tapped Sirius' head.

"It's still in here somewhere in that mess you call a brain!"

Sirius laughed, and was caught off guard by the unnatural sound; laughter was not a noise that was common to Azkaban. Sirius noticed he had caught one his Dementor guard's attention; Smiley's to be exact.

Black pulled in his sudden mirth, remembering what it was Dementors loved to eat. James watched the Dementors curiously, not entirely afraid of them; then again, James wasn't their food of choice as Sirius was. Smiley turned back around, watching or sensing whatever it was Dementors sensed.

"So Prongs, if I still have the ability, where is it?" Sirius whispered.

"I already told you where. Weren't you listening?"

Sirius sighed. "I know it's in my head, but where in my head?"

James laughed loudly; Sirius quickly glanced back at his guards, sure that they would have heard James. Smiley and Skitty hadn't even turned around.

"Sirius, how in the world would I know where in that jumbled up brain of yours that information is kept? It's probably in the same place where the memory of Harry's birth is," James said.

Sirius suddenly remembered where that could be; the deep, dark jungle of his mind; his heart of darkness.

"The jungle…" Sirius whispered.

"Where?" James asked, his puzzlement enshrouding his face.

Sirius shook his head. He didn't want to explain his theory that there was a jungle inside him where all of his precious memories were hidden; that would just be crazy. James continued to stare at Sirius, and was about to ask another question, when a ghostly whisper slithered into Sirius' cell.

"Sirius… Sirius Black…"

Both James and Sirius jerked up. They would have known that high pitched, insane voice anywhere. It floated into the cell like an evil poison. It came from the cell two doors down from Sirius, but really one now. The occupant of the cell right next to Sirius had had his soul sucked out by a Dementor, and had been removed from Azkaban.

"Black, Black, Black! I know you're there naughty boy. I can hear you talking, but to whom I wonder?" That awful voice came through the bars of the Sirius' cell once again. A horrid snigger followed behind the inquisitive words. Smiley and Skitty kept looking in on Black, and then back out towards the other cell.

"Bellatrix! That bitch's still alive?" James spit out.

"Unfortunately," Sirius stated wearily.

"I hear you dear cousin. Is the great and wonderful Sirius Black finally cracking up? Did the big, bad prison finally get to him?" Bellatrix asked.

"Tell her to…" James started.

"Shut it Bellatrix!" Sirius shouted.

"Was that you screaming when the Dementors attacked a month ago, when our mutual neighbor lost his soul? I think it was. I was so sure that my dear cousin would be one of the brain dead to be escorted out of Azkaban. I wonder how a soul tastes to a Dementor?"

Sirius was taken aback by that response. He didn't remember screaming the night the Dementors had had their feeding frenzy; then again he didn't really remember much of that night until James came. Sirius felt his face burn up in shame; he wished James hadn't heard that.

"You're depraved Bellatrix!" Sirius shouted back, though with less confidence.

"Well at least I don't talk to a dead Muggle lover!"

James' lips curled in anger, the muscles in his face tightened, but he managed to keep silent.

"I would rather be talking to James than be anything like you. You're evil, and you'll die alone because who could love such a despicable creature like yourself?" Sirius volleyed back.

"Voldemort will honor me. He will honor all those who come to his side. You will writhe in pain when I get out, and I WILL GET OUT!" Bellatrix screamed. Sirius could hear her determination in her voice, and he knew his cousin well enough to know, that she would probably find a way out of Azkaban.

"Even if you do ever get out Bellatrix, Voldemort will never honor you because he doesn't feel anything for anyone. He will use you and throw you away. You're just too stupid to see it!"

"Sirius, there will come a time when we will have to face each other in combat, and I, _cousin_, will drive you as insane as I drove the Longbottoms before I kill you. Weren't they friends of yours? You know that Alice, she was a screamer. I had her screaming all night. She lasted longer than that worthless husband of hers—"

This time, both James and Sirius leapt up, screaming out their anger at the top of their lungs. Sirius could feel his body warm up from the rage that pumped through his veins like liquid fire. His heart was racing, and he suddenly felt very much alive, with James at his side.

Skitty Kitty had been watching the debate between Bellatrix and Sirius nervously. The Dementor swooped into Sirius' cell, and zoomed in on him. Sirius fell to the floor, trying to get out of the Dementor's way. Smiley floated by his door, and watched Skitty attack Sirius, curious as ever. Sirius fought Skitty, his anger blocking the Dementor's access to his more precious memories.

He could hear Bellatrix's laughter slowly begin to dim. The colors to his cell, and individual objects in his cell lost their coherency. As Skitty sucked out his happier memories, he grew weaker and weaker. James, though, never left his side, even if the image of James was fading. Prongs was the last thing he saw before darkness overcame him.

Sirius fell to the floor, still breathing, and his soul still attached, but he was completely knocked out.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 4 FINDING PADFOOT AND MEETING CORNELIUS

The attack by Skitty Kitty seemed to be the only big event that happened to Sirius that winter; the rest it passed as smoothly as a winter could in Azkaban. Bellatrix was moved to a cell farther away from him; the ministry deemed it too hazardous to keep Bellatrix and Sirius close together, but hazardous to whom, Sirius would never know. Still, Sirius didn't mind one bit that Bellatrix was moved. He wished that he would never have to look at or hear from that evil woman again, but he feared he wasn't going to be that lucky. His new neighbor, fortunately, was quiet, except for the occasional frantic shriek.

Sirius' new neighbor wasn't much of a talker, but Sirius didn't mind that at all; Black didn't need this particular social interaction because he was never alone. James came everyday, and together James and Sirius worked on finding Padfoot. Finding Sirius' ability was not the easiest thing to do. His Animagus had hidden in the deepest place inside Black that there could be. Sirius searched and searched his memories trying to find anything that would lead him to Padfoot. The two friends were finally able to make a break through about the same time as the cold of winter melted into the mildness of spring. Though not much changed around Azkaban weather wise, the days had become slightly lighter and warmer.

James had been right. Padfoot had hidden in the same place as the memory of Harry's birth; the deep, dark interior of Sirius' mind. Now that they found that Sirius' ability did, indeed, still exist, it was time to exercise and use that ability.

This was easier said than done. As spring passed into summer, Sirius was still unable to make even ¼ of his transformation. This frustrated him to no end. If he concentrated hard enough, he could get the hair on the back of his hand to turn black, but that was it. He felt as if he was a first year learning the basics of magic all over again.

James was always there to coach, encourage and even cajole Sirius into working on his ability. Black knew that if James hadn't been there, he would have given up a long time ago. And James put up with a lot of Sirius' defeatist attitude. Black wasn't even sure how James could even handle being around him; _he_ couldn't even stand to be around himself when he was so negative.

By the end of the summer, Sirius was not on polite speaking terms with James. James still came everyday, but the two friend's relationship was severely strained. James pushed Sirius beyond what Sirius thought he was capable of, and Black oftentimes told James this. Prongs didn't believe that Sirius was doing everything he could, and continued to push him. There was nothing in Azkaban that encouraged hope or motivation for Sirius; the Dementors took care of that quite efficiently. Black felt like he was fighting a useless battle; there was nothing, besides James, that impelled Sirius to work on getting Padfoot back.

All of this changed when Sirius received some news about his Godson that disturbed him, and terrified James.

A rumor had been spreading around Azkaban that Lord Voldemort had tried to steal the sorcerer's stone out of Hogwarts a few months earlier with the help of an accomplice. If Voldemort had ever gotten that stone, then the Dark Lord would have returned more powerful than ever before; Bellatrix may have just gotten her wish to make Sirius writhe in pain. That was not what disturbed Sirius and terrified James. What put a dead weight of dread in both men's stomachs was that Harry had had to face Lord Voldemort alone.

For awhile nothing was said as to what had come of the confrontation, until a week later when one of the few wizard guards came by, and passed on the news that Harry had thwarted Voldemort once again. The guard had intended the comment to be an insult to Sirius, whom everyone considered to be a major supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but the guard had no idea how much grief he had alleviated Sirius from. The guard had given him the information he had wanted to know so desperately; Sirius now knew that Harry was alright. Black felt as if he could breathe normally gain. James looked as if he could talk again; Prongs had gone silent with horror and worry over the past couple of days.

That bit of news lit a fire under Sirius. Black hated that Harry had had to face Voldemort alone. Sirius felt he was failing Harry as a Godfather. He vowed that he was going to get his Animagus back, and that he was going to get out. Harry was in real danger; Voldemort would not stop until Harry was dead.

James had gone from a terrified mute to determined and ruthless; he was not going to give Sirius anymore slack. He was determined that Sirius got out, just as much or more than Sirius was. First they had to get Padfoot to come out of hiding; Sirius had to master his ability to change into an Animagus. Both men knew that if Sirius had any chance of escaping it would be through Padfoot.

And so they worked straight through the fall. Harry had already started his second year by then. Sirius and James knew that Dumbledore would protect Harry, but that did not deter their plans one bit. They were determined to bring back the Marauder in Sirius.

The coming of winter had caught Sirius by surprise; he had been so busy working on his ability that he had forgotten about winter. Sirius had a lot he had to do, and by keeping his mind busy, he was able to bear the winter easy enough.

By the end of winter he had managed to transform ¾ the way; he could get the shape and hair right, but he was still having problems with his paws and eyes. Still, it was miles ahead than what he had thought he would have accomplished by this time.

Spring came again with its usual light showers and warm sunlight. Padfoot and Prongs were working as diligently as ever. By the end of spring, Sirius was finally able to turn into Padfoot, and keep his form.

Now it was reconnaissance time. Black first tested out his guards. He wasn't really sure if Dementors could sense a dog.

The first thing he did was yell out as loudly as he could, catching the attention of Smiley and Skitty, and then quickly turning into Padfoot. Sirius did this a couple times in order to see if his Dementors could be fooled more than once.

Skitty would immediately swoop into the cell, but after a few moments of sensing around his cell (sometimes floating right over Padfoot), the Dementor went away. This suggested that Dementors couldn't sense an animal as well. Smiley, on the other hand, was a little bit harder to fool. The Dementor moved into Sirius' cell slowly, sweeping back and forth across the cell in an orderly pattern. At one point Sirius thought the Dementor had figured out what he was doing; Smiley had stopped right in front of Padfoot and began to feed of off the animal. Padfoot must not have been as tasty a treat as Sirius would have been because Smiley soon moved on.

Sirius concluded that Dementors could sense animals, but that they couldn't recognize that a human had turned into an animal. Sirius became charged with the possibilities. He could probably walk right past the Dementors and they wouldn't even notice him. Black began to eat less. The skinnier Padfoot became, the easier it was for the dog to slip through the bars of the cell. Now it was the wizard guards he had to worry about.

Sirius had seen very few wizard guards over the years. Black didn't really think too many wizards wanted to work next to Dementors all day. There were a few regulars that Sirius had seen, but they rarely patrolled the higher levels. Even so, they may have found it odd if a black, mangy dog was wandering around the prison. He needed something to distract them.

That distraction came in the middle of the summer by the way of an unexpected guest. Every year Cornelius Fudge would come and tour the prison, making sure that all the security measures were in place; he hardly ever visited any of the prisoners. The one exception to that rule was Sirius.

When he had first come to Azkaban, Cornelius came every six months to get Black's confession to the crimes of killing twelve Muggles, murdering Peter Pettigrew and betraying James and Lily Potter. Fudge was enraged that Sirius still pleaded his innocence, and was determined to get him to admit to the crimes. Not once had Sirius ever admitted to the crimes, and he never would; he was not going to confess to doing something he didn't do. No matter how many times Sirius told Fudge that Peter Pettigrew had framed him, and that Peter was still alive and out there, Cornelius was not going to ever accept that.

After three years of trying to get Sirius to confess, Fudge gave up. He still toured the prison every year, but he never stopped to talk to Black anymore; to Fudge, Sirius was a hopeless, lost case.

So it was odd when one of the few wizard guards came by Sirius' cell one day to tell him that he was going to be having a visitor.

"The Minister of Magic would like to speak with, but what a degenerate like yourself could say to the Minister is beyond me. If you do anything that is threat to the Minister, I will order one of your Dementor guards to administer the Kiss."

The wizard guard was a squat man with a slightly lopsided face, and gray grizzled hair and beard. He was a nasty little man who liked to come by Sirius' cell every once in awhile to tell him how vile a person he was. Sirius never took what the man said to heart, and he had good reason to think a little kinder of the man; it was this guard who had given Sirius the news that Harry had survived his encounter with Lord Voldemort.

James, on the other hand, was not so calm. Prongs paced the cell, angry that that little stump of a man would dare say something like that to his friend.

"He only has the courage to say that because you're in a cell. If you were out that Donkey's—"

"James! Not now!" Sirius said as he turned to give his friend a warning glare.

James took the hint and settled down. Sirius was puzzled, and slightly disturbed by the fact that the Minister wanted to see him now.

The guard, on the other hand, looked at Sirius with a mixture of shock and fear.

"Who are you talking to Black?" The guard said, as he peered into Sirius' cell anxiously.

"Obviously not you!" Sirius retorted. He was annoyed that the guard was so nosy.

The guard shook his head in disapproval, and then stomped away, muttering something under his breath about Sirius being crazy. Maybe he was right; Azkaban wasn't the best place to stay sane, but Black didn't care what the guard thought.

He was more worried as to why the Minister of Magic wanted to see him now. He had a sour feeling in his stomach that it had something to do with Harry. After the guard left, this same idea seemed to dawn on James. James' face became drawn in terror. Prongs walked to the nearby wall and slid down into a sitting position. Sirius went over to join him, and both watched and waited for Cornelius Fudge.

"You don't think Cornelius is coming because something happened to Harry do you?" James asked his eyes wide with fear.

Sirius thought about this for a second. He really didn't think that Cornelius would come all the way to Azkaban to tell Sirius anything about Harry. All the other times that Fudge had come, not once had he even mentioned Harry's name.

"No, I don't think Cornelius would come here to tell me about my Godson. I'm not sure why he's coming. Maybe it's a slow time for the Ministry at the moment, and Fudge is coming to get a confession again."

James' gloom disappeared; he smiled.

"It would be something that idiot would do. Instead of attending to his duties as Minister of Magic, he comes here to bother you!"

"Lucky me," Sirius answered sarcastically.

Black hadn't been paying attention to who was outside his cell, and was shocked to see Skitty Kitty looking in on him. James noticed the Dementor as well, and fell silent. Both watch as Skitty floated into the cell. Sirius braced himself for an attack, but was surprised when Skitty floated over to his waste bucket, picked it up and floated out again.

Smiley was no where nearby; it must be out getting Sirius' food since it was that time of the day.

Sirius looked at James, and James looked at Sirius. There was no one guarding Sirius' door. Black slowly got up, and walked over to the door to see if the coast was clear, his heart thudding with anticipation. This may be his chance to escape, and he was terrified.

As he looked out the door, his heart sank. Cornelius was marching towards his cell, followed by the same wizard guard who had called Sirius a "degenerate" a moment earlier and two Dementors. Cornelius was dressed impeccably in a dark suit, and wearing his familiar bowler hat. He had a newspaper tucked under his arm. Though Cornelius had aged since Sirius had last seen him, the Minister still had that stern look of determination; once Fudge made his mind up about something, it was very hard to sway that mind. Sirius had tried before and had obviously failed; he was still in Azkaban.

Fudge stopped in front of Sirius cell, looking at Black with complete contempt; Cornelius never seemed to change. The wizard guard conjured up a chair, and set it down next to Sirius' door. Black had not moved from his spot on the floor next to James. He knew any sudden movements would not be looked to kindly on by the Dementors.

Cornelius waved the guard and the Dementors away and sat down. This surprised Sirius and gave him hope; Fudge must not think Black was too big of a threat. None of these emotions showed on his face though. He remained where he was against the wall, nonchalant as ever.

Cornelius took his paper from under his arm, and set in primly in his lap. He then turned his attention to Sirius, scrutinizing Black for reasons Sirius couldn't figure out. James watched Fudge quizzically, just as confused as Black was.

"Well I'm sure you know why I am here," Cornelius started.

"No, I haven't the faintest idea why our fine Minister has come to visit a lowly prisoner like myself," Sirius responded. By his side, he heard James suppress a laugh.

A look of irritation passed over Fudge's face, but was soon replaced by look of friendliness. So Fudge was going to employ the best friend tactic. Sirius waited.

"I'm here because I think it's high time that you confess to the crimes that you were charged for. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone, so why are you still being so obstinate?"

James muttered angry words, but Sirius looked back at Fudge very calmly, his gray eyes sparkling in the afternoon light.

"We've been through this before Cornelius. I will not admit to something I didn't do, no matter who says I did it. If that is all you came here for, then I'm sorry that you wasted your time. I will not confess, and you will not see reason, so I say we are at an impasse," Sirius calmly responded.

Cornelius was stunned by Sirius' elegant answer. He sat back, and looked at Black in a way that was fearful, but also impressed. James was shocked by Sirius' answer as well. He had never known that Padfoot could be this well spoken in a time of distress, and at a time when he should have been angry.

Sirius was taken aback by how calm he really felt. There was no point being angry; they were never going to let him out if he acted crazy. He was just going to have to free himself. Sirius' mind was made up on leaving. Azkaban had gotten enough of him, and he was done trying to get out legally.

Cornelius leaned back into his chair, picked up his newspaper from his lap and snapped it open.

"I can stay here all day Black until you confess."

Sirius nearly laughed at this, but didn't; James did laugh. They both knew Fudge was lying, and he wasn't doing a good job at it either.

"That idiot expects us to believe that he can spend all day in Azkaban waiting for a confession on a case that is twelve years old. Even if he could, he wouldn't. That man has as much courage as a…" James was going to continue, until he saw Sirius' face, and then stopped.

Sirius was looking at the front page of the paper, and for the first time James saw rage. The picture on the front page was of a large family happily waving out of the picture. The entire family had bright red hair. The headline said that the family had just won 10,000 gallons in a contest. It wasn't the family or their hair or the fact that they had just won 10,000 gallons that caught Sirius' attention. It was the rat perched on the youngest son's shoulder that Sirius could not take his eyes off of.

"Who is that family that won the 10,000 gallon prize on the first page?" Sirius asked.

Cornelius looked over his paper at Sirius in shock, then flipped the paper to the front page.

"That is Arthur Weasley's family. I thought you would have at least recognized Arthur."

"It's been a couple years since I have seen anyone Fudge, but my, his family has grown," Sirius said.

Cornelius was a taken back by this, not sure if Sirius was threatening Arthur or complimenting him. He decided that since Sirius was in here, Black was no threat.

"They are a big family, but they have enough room for one more. Arthur and Molly have grown quite attached to Harry Potter. They look at him as quite their own ever since he saved their youngest, their only daughter, from some trouble a few months back. Harry and their youngest son are as thick as thieves from what I hear, much like you and James had once been. At least Harry has someone who cares for him since he has NO parents to go to," Cornelius stated. He looked in at Sirius expecting Black to feel some guilt and confess.

The comment hadn't made Sirius feel guilt, but it did sting. He was missing out on all of Harry's important moments, moments a kid should have a father figure to look up to.

When Cornelius saw he was not going to get a response, he sighed and went back to reading.

A few moments later, the wizard guard returned.

"Minister, a Ministry owl has just arrived asking for your attendance in a meeting set for later on today," he stated blandly.

Cornelius jumped up from his seat, and turned to face the guard as he snapped his paper shut.

"Ah yes. I've spent too much time here as it is. Where is this owl?"

James was on the verge of saying something nasty, but stopped when he saw Sirius eyeing the paper.

"Up in the warden's office. Follow me, I'll show you," the guard replied cheerfully, proud to be able to help the Minister of Magic.

"Minister," Sirius asked in his most redemptive voice possible, "before you leave, if you are done with that paper, may I please have it? I miss doing the crossword puzzle."

Cornelius looked down at Sirius, then back at the paper in his hands. Deciding it was no harm giving Sirius the paper, he shrugged and handed the paper over to the guard who gave it to Black.

Sirius opened the paper calmly and began to read. Cornelius stood there for a moment perplexed by Black, but then turned and followed the guard out of the fourth tier cellblock, passing catcallers as he went.

Once Fudge was gone, Sirius immediately turned to the front page, staring at the little rat on the second youngest Weasley's shoulder. There was no doubt in Sirius' mind as to who that really was.

"I've found him James. I found that traitor Pettigrew! He's at Hogwarts!"

Sirius looked up, but was surprised to see James looking out of Sirius' cell. Confused, Sirius got up, paper in hand, and walked over to James.

"Didn't you hear me Prongs? I found Pettigrew!"

James turned to face Sirius, his face stern. It was the look James got when he was devising a plan.

"I heard you the first time Sirius," Prongs responded.

"Well what are you doing? Aren't you the least bit interested in this James? I mean he did betray you and Lily!"

"Sirius, look outside your cell!"

Sirius glanced outside, and then realized that he saw nothing. There were no guards or Dementors near his cell. Fudge must have asked for Dementor guards to escort him out of Azkaban. Smiley hadn't returned yet with Sirius' food, and Skitty was no where to be seen. The last he had seen of Skitty was when the Dementor had taken his waste bucket out of his cell.

"Now's your chance to escape Padfoot, to set things right!" James exclaimed.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6 THE ESCAPE

Sirius moved away from his cell door, his eyes restlessly flitting across the floor. He didn't want James to see his anxiety. It was more than anxiety that made his heart hammer in his chest, made the sweat on his face turn to icicles. It was more than anxiety that turned his stomach upside down and inside out.

James turned to look at Sirius, his eyes never leaving Padfoot's face. Black avoided James' hard stare. Instead, he began to scan his cell, a place that had been his home for twelve years. It was true that he hated the gray, slick walls that had entombed him, but leaving them, leaving what he had known for so long, was terrifying.

In here, he was just Sirius Black, nothing more or less. In here, he didn't have to prove anything to anyone, but outside, he was known as a mass murderer, and traitor. He was hated and feared; people trembled when they spoke his name. To some, like Bellatrix, that fear was an addicting drug, but for Sirius, it was a constant shame. Not only that, but where would he go? Who could he trust and how would he live? These questions and more swirled like a dust storm through the barren landscape of his mind.

"James, I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I have your strength. The world does not want me," Sirius stated.

James quickly crossed the small space between he and his friend.

"Sirius, you have Harry who NEEDS you. Since when have you ever cared what the world thought of you? As for not having my strength, I'm a part of your mind. I'm not real. All the courage you see in me is already inside you. You have a chance to right the wrongs of the past, but this chance will not last forever!"

"What if I can't protect Harry, as I couldn't protect you and Lily? What if I let you down again?" Sirius replied. He lifted his eyes to look James in the face.

"You never let me down the first time Sirius. Others were culpable, but if you don't leave now, you will have failed me in the worse way possible. Pettigrew is too close to Harry, and could strike at any time. If you don't want me to die, to truly disappear, then you must do all you can to protect my son. I live on in Harry!"

Sirius knew James was right, but that still didn't stop his fear from tearing up his mind.

Sirius turned to face his cell door. His Dementor guards had still not returned. The rays of evening were falling; if routine was to be followed as it had been for 12 years, then the Dementors would be back soon.

"This is your chance Padfoot. You must leave now!" James said, as he ghosted up to Sirius' side.

"Will you walk with me until I get to the entrance?" Black asked.

"Of course I will. I'll be with you until you reach the shore on the other side. What are friends for?" James replied. A large smile crinkled up James' face; it had been years since Sirius had seen his friend smile like that.

Sirius sighed, and every doubt, every fear, every painful, dark memory slipped away from him. He was going to leave it all behind in his cell. He knew that with James at his side, that he could make it. For once, peace settled gently on Sirius Black's heart.

With that knowledge, he changed into Padfoot. He felt stronger, wilder; adrenaline coursed like a rushing river through his body. He quickly slipped through the bars of his cell, and never looked back as he loped away.

Sirius made his way down the levels, passing cell after cell of despair. Not one word was said as he slid by. He trotted past Dementor after Dementor. Each one he walked by, chilled his bones, and brought the darkness of his mind to the surface, a darkness that threatened to swallow his strength and courage. Whenever this happened, James would touch Padfoot's fur, giving him a stroke of warmth. This restored Sirius' strength.

He walked out of each cell level unchallenged; not once did a Dementor or the occasional wizard take notice of him.

Finally Sirius made it to the entrance. He waited at the door. The wizard guard next to the door assumed he was another wizard's pet that had been brought to work, and that he wanted out to relieve himself. Padfoot acted the part, squirming and whimpering. The guard, knowing that he would probably be the one who would have to clean up after the dog, quickly opened the door to the prison, kicked Padfoot out, and shut the heavy door with a resounding boom.

Sirius was stunned at how easy that had been. He felt as if he were once more the daring boy of his youth, that he was once again a Marauder. A thrill of recklessness ran through him. He was free. His heart beat wildly with his joy. He had escaped the one place that no one had ever escaped from, and he had escaped with his soul intact.

Padfoot ran down to the shore, heedless of the slippery gray stones under his feet. He leapt up into the still, gray air. He managed to stifle his impulse to bark wildly, instead tearing up and down the beach to express his joy.

"Padfoot, you haven't escaped yet! It would be foolish to be caught now!" James reprimanded.

Padfoot slowed down, walked over to James and settled down on his haunches. Both friends looked out over the sea. The gray water lacked any life, dull and unenthusiastic. It was going to be an easier swim than Sirius had expected. Padfoot looked up at the sky. It was dark, but not dangerous, showing no signs of a storm. It hugged the surface of the water. For Azkaban, it was a good day for a swim. The waves lapped on the shore, sucking up the sand and rocks of the island, and dispersing them out to the sea, as if the briny fluid was ready to send Sirius on his way.

Padfoot looked to his friend; James stared out over the flat, dull ocean. In the distance, the uneven line of the opposite shore sat, beckoning to the pair.

"I'll see you on the other side my friend!" said James, as he began to float over the desolate waves.

Sirius watched him go, his heart leaping up in his chest in excitement and joy. He steeled himself. He was going to make it across. He was not going to fail James a second time.

Padfoot jumped into the ice cold water, running into the waves as they met the shore. Soon he was paddling, his head barely above the surface. He paddled until he was tired and then paddled some more. His muscles soon ached, and the taste of the salt water dried out his mouth. Hunger and thirst nagged at him, and yet he continued onward. The pains of his body were overruled by the power of his mind.

Ahead of him lay freedom. Ahead of him lay Harry, and the promise of the future. Ahead of him, a pure white stag of light led the way across the sea to the far distant shore.

The End.

**A/N:** Thanks to all the people who have read and supported this story. I really appreciate it. If you have any feedback or comments on it, please feel free to leave me a review! Thanks again!


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